


Silent Tears

by I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alpha Anakin Skywalker, Alpha Qui-Gon Jinn, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Omega Obi-Wan Kenobi, Warped World Ethics, no one dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-11 21:46:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11723205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning/pseuds/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning
Summary: Obi-Wan Kenobi's life has been both unusual and painfully normal for an omega. He's never been hurt by an alpha, but he's never given an enthusiastic yes either.Qui-Gon's tried to do the best he could, but something feels out of place. He's just not sure where it all went wrong...(Qui-Gon is not an aggressor)





	1. Chapter 1

 

“Master.”

Qui-Gon turned to find his eighteen-year-old Padawan's eyes wide with fright.

“I think— I think it's  _happening—_ ”

Panic jolted through Qui-Gon's system. It wasn't supposed to happen for another couple of months, the healers had sounded so confident, they—

“Master?”

“It's alright,” Qui-Gon soothed, and yes, now he could smell him. His voice rumbled deeper than usual, an unintentional alpha command.

Obi-Wan's head bowed, his shoulders curled in.

Involuntary submission.

Fortunately, they'd prepared for years for this.

You knew where the spaceport was for a quick getaway. You knew where the exits of a building were in case of fire.

And you knew where the Houses of Safety lay in case of unexpected heat.

Obi-Wan was quiet the whole way there, afraid and ashamed.

Qui-Gon wished he could take away that shame, but he couldn't trust himself to speak. It took every ounce of his self control to not allow Obi-Wan to realize the effect he was having on his master.

_I'm supposed to be his place of safety. If I just_ want  _something from him..._

_Nowhere in the universe will be a safe haven for him._

They were met at the door by an infertile alpha. He introduced himself, asked if this was Obi-Wan's first heat.

His manner was both soothing and clinical as he spoke, but Obi-Wan's gaze was getting dragged away from his face to the pairs through the room, the cries of pleasure and need.

He paled until there wasn't a single drop of blood in his face.

And then the need hit.

The alpha was there to catch him, to ease him to a specially-designed couch for first-time omegas. Obi-Wan submitted, lost and full of grief.

_Why are you sad? Why? We made it here in time. You weren't hurt._

The alpha was careful with him, explaining the process throughout as he checked to make sure Obi-Wan was ready to receive him. The goal was to relieve discomfort, not inflict it.

And then the man took him.

Qui-Gon looked away, ashamed by his own desire to be the one using Obi-Wan's body.

_It's wrong. Wrong. He sees me as his father._

The alpha's breathing hitched, labored, his movements speeding up.

Qui-Gon glanced back, worried about his Padawan. Obi-Wan wasn't making the classic sounds of omega approval or enjoyment.

He was utterly silent.

_Is he in pain?_ Qui-Gon worried, stretching out with the Force to make sure—

No pain.

_He's not being hurt,_ Qui-Gon soothed himself.  _He's alright._

And he was beautiful, tucked under the alpha. So beautiful.

Qui-Gon closed his eyes tight shut.

The alpha came with a low groan, knotting Obi-Wan and rhythmically stroking his hair, his shoulders, his flanks. Modern science had reduced the calming of an omega to cold steps that could be accomplished with no heart behind it.

Qui-Gon could sense Obi-Wan's heat lifting, the young body deciding it had received what it was supposed to.

The alpha pulled free and approached Qui-Gon. Speaking in an undertone so Obi-Wan, who was trying to arrange his clothes into perfection, couldn't hear, he said, “In all my years working in several different facilities, I have never encountered a Silent Omega. Do you have any idea how valuable he is?”

Stunned disbelief flooded Qui-Gon. “Are you sure? Perhaps he was quiet because of embarrassment—”

“He's a Silent Omega. He's worth several fortunes. You want to keep him safe? You keep close watch over him.”

Obi-Wan stood by the couch, as crimson now as he had been sheet white before. He couldn't seem to meet Qui-Gon's gaze.

“Padawan. Time to go.”  
Obi-Wan moved to his side and followed him out.

_My Padawan is a Silent Omega._

Dear Force.

Then again, he'd always known this boy was special.  _Little did I realize._

Give it a few more years for Obi-Wan to come into his own, and then the man would be magnificent.

_You will capture all attention simply by walking into a room._

 

* * *

 

The new normal didn't disrupt their mission life much. Once a month for a few hours they would visit one of the Houses of Safety, Qui-Gon standing guard to make sure none of the workers harmed his precious Padawan, and then they headed out to continue their pursuit of whatever criminal they happened to be chasing.

They never spoke about it, which relieved Qui-Gon.

Obi-Wan  _had_ to know he was different, had to see normally-dignified omegas turning into moaning, screaming, begging creatures when under the influence of their heat. Had to realize his own quiet dignity, even as he knelt to be bred wasn't  _normal._

If he had any questions, he didn't ask them of his master.

 

* * *

 

The day Obi-Wan was knighted was one of the proudest days of Qui-Gon's life. He couldn't quite understand why Obi-Wan didn't seem to be as pleased.

But then, Qui-Gon was very busy with his new Padawan, and only had time to cursorily try to find out what was wrong.

If Obi-Wan wasn't willing to be honest with him, what could he do?

Right?

 

* * *

 

Ten years later, Qui-Gon decided enough was enough, and requested a joint mission with his former Padawan. Anakin would be knighted soon, and Qui-Gon was contemplating not taking another.

He'd seen Obi-Wan _three times_ in the last decade, and he didn't want the same happening with Anakin.

Besides. His heart ached for his former Padawan in a way he had not experienced since Tahl, and the years of silence had not eased the pain.

He was startled when he saw Obi-Wan's appearance, the perfect uniform traded for something Qui-Gon could more readily envision Quinlan Vos wearing. Tight black leather pants, a top more fitted to a racer or musician than his quiet Padawan.

His hair fell about his shoulders, and something was wrong with his eyes.

“Whoa,” Anakin murmured beside him, his nineteen-year-old mind apparently impressed.

And as Obi-Wan raised blue eyes to Qui-Gon's face, eyes that were  _too_ blue, artificially blue— Qui-Gon realized what it was.

The thin line of black carefully traced around each eyelid.

_Since when do you wear—_

“Knight Kenobi,” Anakin called, smiling. “Looking good.”

Obi-Wan's gaze lingered on the younger man perhaps a touch too long before he turned to Qui-Gon. “It's Master, now, actually.”

“When?” Qui-Gon near gasped.

Obi-Wan gave a nod. “A year ago. My ship is over there, shall we go?”

Anakin sprang forward, his tongue running eager over the specs and aesthetics of the craft. Obi-Wan indulged him, answering questions and opening hatches so Anakin could inspect the internal wiring.

Qui-Gon hovered in the background, wondering  _what_ had gone so terribly wrong.

_Why wouldn't he tell me?_

“Damn, you smell good.”  
Qui-Gon was yanked from his musing with sheer horror. “ _Anakin_ !”

Anakin turned bright red and ducked his head.

“I'm aware,” was Obi-Wan's cool response. “Do you want to fly her?”

Grateful, relieved he hadn't offended, Anakin bolted into the cockpit.

Qui-Gon stepped into Obi-Wan's way as he moved to follow. “Are you alright?”

“Would you be asking me that if I still wore Jedi robes?”

“Yes. There's something different about you.”  
Obi-Wan nodded, then shrugged. “I decided to stop being ashamed I'm fripped by strangers every month.” And then he was past Qui-Gon through the door, and the older Jedi wasn't even sure how he'd accomplished it.

Then again, he was in shock too.

They were going to need to  _talk._

 

* * *

 

They didn't get a chance to.

And now they were stranded, marooned on an empty planet filled with forests and grasslands, and waiting for their help to arrive.

Which it might not.

Qui-Gon didn't even want to think about it.

Certainly not when Anakin, across the fire from his Master, was cuddled up beside Obi-Wan, pressing his nose into the omega's throat, a hand on his knee.

The man in black didn't seem to care.

“Obi-Wan.”

Blue eyes rose to meet his.

“Might I have a word?”  
“Certainly.” Obi-Wan stood, the barely-grown alpha beside him whining in his throat as he lost contact. A smile that disturbed Qui-Gon crossed Obi-Wan's face, almost a sneer of power. His hand caressed the top of Anakin's head, and he murmured, “Shh.”

This had gone  _quite_ far enough.

Qui-Gon grabbed his arm and near dragged him to the treeline.

Once there, Obi-Wan slipped free of him, leaning against a tree with his arms crossed and legs spread.

Qui-Gon gave significant effort to keep his gaze on Obi-Wan's  _face._

Obi-Wan didn't speak to ease the awkward tension, so Qui-Gon scraped a few words together and tried. “You're not being safe.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“The way you dress, the way you've made your face and hair, the way you  _look_ at people— the way you were letting Anakin get that  _close,_ someone's going to take your cues  _wrong,_ and you're going to end up  _hurt_ !”

“I see.” Obi-Wan tilted his head to the side, blue eyes piercing in the twilight. “Being wary of strangers. So why didn't you pull Anakin aside as well, since  _he_ was getting marvelously close to a stranger too,  _looking_ at a stranger in an appraising way?”

“It's not the  _same,_ ” Qui-Gon hissed.

Obi-Wan shrugged. “Really.”

“If Anakin wanted to wear...  _that_ ... people wouldn't think it an invitation to throw him against the nearest surface and—  _hurt—_ him.”

Obi-Wan's lip quirked up. “After six years of handing me over to men twice my age to use me while you watched, you're afraid of the word  _sex_ ?”

“I— you—” Something grabbed his nose. “Are you going into  _heat_ ?”

“Yes.”

Qui-Gon threw his hands in the air. “ _Great,_ ” he muttered. “Just great.”  
“I don't see the problem,” Obi-Wan murmured, voice deceptively soft. “You have a stranger on hand for me to serve.”  
“You have _got_ to be kidding. He's barely into adulthood.”

“So was I.”

“Obi-Wan, we're going to be stuck here for at  _least_ a couple more days.”

“It will be just like old times.”

Qui-Gon stared at him, desperate. “Is  _that_ why you've avoided me all these years? Because I took you to Safety Houses?  _What_ , Obi-Wan?  _What_ was I supposed to do differently? I made sure they never hurt you, I—”

“An excellent question.” Obi-Wan pushed away from the tree and meandered deeper into the woods.

“Where are you going?”

“I'm going to walk a bit before sleeping. Tomorrow's going to be interesting.”

 

* * *

 

It took Qui-Gon hours before he managed to find sleep.

In the meantime, Obi-Wan had returned and lay wrapped in his blanket on the third side of the fire. The scent was becoming maddening.

_Dear Force._

Tomorrow would be hell.

 

* * *

 

“You don't make _any_ noise at _all_?”

His eyelids feeling like they weighed a thousand pounds, Qui-Gon tried to make sense of the voice as his mind staggered towards waking up.

“None.”  
“Wow. I would have thought you'd have been kidnapped and sold a long time ago. You're worth... a  _lot._ You're the most valuable merchandise in the galaxy. Every slaver out there would hunt you from one side of the galaxy to another for just a chance to catch you.”

Something was wrong. What was wrong? Every joint in his body  _hurt,_ that was wrong, he was too  _old_ to sleep on the ground these days, damn it—

“They've tried.” The silky voice sounded grimly amused. “I have little doubt it was Nerrin who sabotaged our ship. He's been following me a while.”  
“I can't imagine even  _Safe_ Houses can be all that safe, given what you are.”

There was a low chuckle. “I don't use Safe Houses anymore, Anakin. There's little point in being the most highly desired commodity in the universe if it doesn't do something for you.”

A breath escaped Anakin, a sense of sheer worship spilling into the Force.

The words,  _everything_ linked together in Qui-Gon's mind and he sat up, fury flooding his system. It deepened as he found Obi-Wan lying on his back, Anakin sitting on his stomach and staring down into his face as they spoke.

“ _Anakin_ !” Qui-Gon growled, startling the younger alpha.

Eyes wide, Anakin recoiled, falling off of Obi-Wan and cowering. Hatred swift followed into the Force as Anakin tried to shake off the instinct that told him to show allegiance to the stronger alpha. The boy retreated to his chosen sleeping spot, trying to square his shoulders and hold his head up.

Qui-Gon had no time for his wounded pride.

“Obi-Wan, I am ashamed of you. I expect better from a master of the Order. I expect better from  _you._ ”

“I think you'll find I've just been lying here,” Obi-Wan returned, voice bland. “I haven't moved from this spot. What have I done that is so disappointing?”

“Encouraging these advances.  _Talking_ about your heats.”

Obi-Wan's eyebrow flicked in mocking amusement. “It's a little bit absurd to pretend heats do not occur when I'm  _in_ one right this second.”  
“You're not— not a  _whore._ You're a  _person,_ and—”

“Oh, I don't spread my legs for money. Just for other things. If I must spread them, I may as well  _get_ something out of it besides shame and surrender to another gender.”

“But doesn't it hurt if you don't?” Anakin asked. “And isn't it enjoyable for you?”

Obi-Wan's smile looked more gentle than amused. “I am well-accustomed to enduring pain, Anakin Skywalker, I was Qui-Gon's Padawan. And as for  _need,_ well, let's just say that alphas are not required for pleasure, no matter what the Powers-That-Be claim.”

“ _Enough,_ ” Qui-Gon snapped. “Anakin, you and I are going to go for a walk. Bring anything you'll need for the next six hours.”  
Anakin stared at him in shock. “ _Master._ ” He jerked his head towards Obi-Wan.

_Could you be_ more  _unsubtle?_

Obi-Wan was watching him, a challenge in his eyes.

“I mean,” Anakin continued, clearly nervous. “If you don't make a claim, it  _is_ my right—”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan chided.

Anakin turned red. “What did I say?”

“You're never _owed_ sex. No matter what an omega says or does.”  
Anakin nodded, looking contrite and eager to please. “I didn't think how it could be interpreted. That phrase is even part of the alpha-stranglehold, isn't it? As an ally I need to avoid those kinds of things.”  
Obi-Wan purred in his throat.

Qui-Gon stared at them in stunned disbelief. “What's an ally?”

“Someone who sees an omega as something  _more_ than just a prize plate to be wrapped in tissue flimsi and kept on the highest shelf.”

“When have I  _ever—_ I took you with me on  _missions—_ you're out here as knight, no,  _master,_ in your own right!” Qui-Gon protested. 

Obi-Wan shrugged.

“And you never suggested you  _didn't_ want the Safe Houses—” no, that was a lie, Qui-Gon had sensed his dread every time, tried to soothe him, his former Padwan's eyes stared  _knowing_ into his own, but he couldn't retract his statement— “what was I supposed to  _do_ ? You never said  _no_ !”

“I only thought there were three options.” Obi-Wan shrugged.

Anakin frowned in thought. “Safe House, get taken by the strongest alpha on the street, or Qui-Gon.”

“Yes.”

“There  _aren't_ any other options!”

Obi-Wan scowled and sat up.

“The omegas who  _deny_ their nature, who pretend to be something  _else,_ they suffer, Obi-Wan. You were better off embracing yourself for who you are—”

“And yet now that I've done that completely, you offer me nothing but disapproval.” Obi-Wan stretched, the lines of his muscles trapping both alphas' eyes.

Qui-Gon stood, grabbed Anakin's arm, and almost dragged him in the direction of the treeline.

Anakin dug his heels in.

“I'm an adult now,” he announced. “And so is Obi-Wan. If he gives me permission, if he wants this,  _why_ would you say no, when you  _just said_ that letting him suffer isn't an option?”

“This is different,” Qui-Gon protested, feeling desperate.

Anakin stared at him in disbelief. “Because we know each other?”

“No—”

“Because you want him and if you refuse to touch him you can't stand the thought of me doing so either?”

Qui-Gon bared his teeth and snarled before he even realized he would feel the urge to. Anakin leaned back, neck offered in appeasement, but his eyes retained their fire.

Obi-Wan stood, the movement languorous. “You've never had a problem watching me be claimed by men I don't know  _before,_ Master. I cannot fathom what has gotten into you.”  
Qui-Gon glared back at him. What was  _wrong_ with these two, that they couldn't just  _obey him—_ no, more than that, why didn't they  _understand_ the sheer  _wrongness_ of what they proposed?

“Enough talk,” Obi-Wan announced, peeling his shirt off. “I have no intention of suffering because of the dice roll that gave me my gender. Either or both of you can either help, watch, or get the frip out of here, I don't really care.” Down went the pants. Qui-Gon's gaze jerked away. Anakin's didn't. Qui-Gon gripped Anakin's shoulder to the point of pain, and still the boy didn't look away.

“No, wait.” Obi-Wan's voice held a hint of venom. “I  _do_ have a preference. I'd like Qui-Gon to take responsibility here.”  
“I  _am_ ,” Qui-Gon hissed, taking another step in the direction of the treeline.

“Because for all his talk of me being a  _consenting adult,_ he's never given me the right to accept or deny his advances.”

The accusation stopped Qui-Gon's heart cold and he spun around to glare straight into Obi-Wan's eyes. “I have  _never_ pressed myself on you!”

“No,” Obi-Wan said back, voice barely more than a whisper as his gaze searched Qui-Gon's soul. “But you've decided for me what I need. You always have.”

“I don't—”

But Obi-Wan was shedding his underclothes and lying down once more, the scent flooding Qui-Gon's sinuses and causing Anakin to whimper like an abused canine.

“Go,” Qui-Gon commanded, shoving Anakin toward the trees, unable to tear his gaze away from Obi-Wan's parted lips, the wanton sneer as he reached down to touch himself.

Anakin obeyed, words spilling unwilling from his throat. “Your claim, Alpha.”

The traditional words of surrender when a stronger alpha exerted his right to the choicest omega present.

Qui-Gon couldn't even bring himself to be angry about it.

Anakin retreated, but he didn't look away.

Qui-Gon had too great a struggle within himself to fight one with Anakin too. Hell, if Anakin had challenged him for the right to this omega, the boy would probably win. It was a good thing Anakin hadn't figured that out yet.

Obi-Wan had fingers up his ass, apparently oblivious to his spectators.

And then something brushed the inside of Qui-Gon's nostrils, and he blurted, “Are you  _sick_ ?”

Obi-Wan froze.

And then he was on his feet, throwing his clothes back on and walking away.

“ _Obi-Wan_ !”

But his former Padawan didn't stop walking.

His heart terrified, desperately needing for what he sensed to be a lie, Qui-Gon followed.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

“Obi-Wan, are you _sick_?” Qui-Gon demanded again.

Obi-Wan paused, not looking back. “No.”  
But now the scent was stronger, flooding Qui-Gon's sinuses with how _not right_ it was. “What is it, Obi-Wan?” And then a terrible thought occurred to him. The one that haunted all those who had loved omegas— “Tell me it's not what I think it is.”  
“Why would it be anything else?” Obi-Wan asked, sounding defeated and listless.

Worry blossomed cruel in Qui-Gon's heart. “How long has it been since you last sustained a pregnancy?”

“Seven months.”

“Then you must be feeling the effects.”  
Obi-Wan did not reply.

“Obi-Wan, your body is consuming itself from the inside out. Until the proteins it creates when with child are successfully synthesized, you  _have_ to seed yourself. Seven months is playing  _too_ carelessly with your life. Your brain  _needs_ those proteins, and if your body can't make them the way it used to anymore, you have to improvise. Let healthy fetuses provide them for both themselves and you.”

“I thought you weren't interested,” Obi-Wan sneered, but there was an unsteadiness to his voice that betrayed pain. “And maybe I'm tired of providing infants for the Temple.”  
“Then you could give them to someone else, but as far as breeding and carrying those children go, you don't have a choice.”

Obi-Wan's shoulders stiffened.

“I wish you had _told_ me.” Qui-Gon shook his head in frustration as he stepped forward and placed his hand comfortingly on Obi-Wan's shoulder. “All these attempts to convince me or Anakin— this makes a _difference,_ Obi-Wan—”

His former Padawan shook off his hand as he screamed, “I  _do not want your pity_ !”

Qui-Gon watched him, sorrow seizing his heart. He could see them now, the score-lines tracing through the younger man's body and health. A single strike at the wrong time, wrong place, and both would shatter and be lost.

“Pity is all I've ever had from you,” Obi-Wan choked, tears glinting in his eyes. “Pity is why you took me as your Padawan. Pity is why you kept me. Pity is why you led me into the arms of men I don't love. Pity is why you let me walk away the day I was knighted.”

“Pity is  _not_ why I requested  _this_ mission with you,” Qui-Gon protested.

Obi-Wan's eyes narrowed. “Why  _did_ you request it?”

Qui-Gon found himself at a loss for words. He couldn't very well  _say—_

“Was it because you missed me?” Obi-Wan jeered. “The silent creature at your back, always ready to do your will and make you comfortable? If so, why are you  _just now,_ ten  _years_ later, missing me? Have you only just recently realized I'm not there anymore? Or is it because Anakin isn't quite so docile, and you wanted him to see true obedience at work? You thought I would just fall behind you again, cater to your every whim?”

“I never  _asked_ such radical subservience from you! Why do you think I let you  _go_ when you were knighted? I hoped you'd be able to find yourself, figure out who you were apart from me, find your way—”

“I have. And I've seen nothing but disappointment in your eyes because of it.”

“Obi-Wan, can we set that argument aside for a moment? You're  _sick._ Let me help you.”

Obi-Wan scowled. “What? You think I  _forgot_ to tell you? No.”

Qui-Gon took a step forward, and Obi-Wan darted away, teeth bared. “I said  _no._ ”

“You've been trying to seduce us this whole time, and now you say  _no_ ? Why, Obi-Wan? Help me understand.”

Obi-Wan froze, staring up into his eyes. His lips quivered, his brow twisted in a protracted wince. “The first time you touch me is out of  _pity_ ? I'd rather—” His voice fell silent, he snorted and turned away.

“You'd rather  _what_ ?”

“I'm not going to  _say_ it, I have little interest in being  _rightfully_ accused of being overdramatic.”

“Just say it, Obi-Wan, how am I to  _know_ if you don't  _tell me_ ?”

“I'm not  _interested_ in you knowing! You only  _just now_ take an interest because you feel  _sorry_ for me—”

“Just  _tell me_ !” Qui-Gon yelled.

“ _I'd rather die!_ ” Obi-Wan yelled back.

Silence fell.

A sob caught in Obi-Wan's throat, and a tear spilled down his cheek. “There,” he muttered. “Satisfied now? Strip away my last pretended dignity? Here he stands revealed, the pathetic omega Padawan in love with his master.”

Qui-Gon expected him to try to walk away, to run, but he didn't. He stood there with his shoulders slumped, face burning with misery and humiliation alike, waiting for Qui-Gon to pass judgment.

But all Qui-Gon could manage to string together in his mind was a near-incoherent,  _he loves me?_

“What?” Qui-Gon asked in a strangled whisper.

Obi-Wan deflated still further. “For years I thought the reason you wouldn't touch me was because there was something repulsive about me. I thought it was my silence— that you didn't want a freak. I  _knew_ you took other omegas, so why not me? Why was I given to strangers? I told myself that wasn't it, that it was because you were my master, that once we were equals it would be different.” Obi-Wan shivered. “But you let me walk away. You didn't follow, ask me to stay. You didn't... you didn't look back once. And I kept thinking you'd turn up, looking for me, or you'd call me, just to see how I was doing, if nothing else. So clearly my first thought was the right one: you did not want me. It became clear last night that was the case.” Obi-Wan shrugged. “I get it. That's fine. But to offer this  _now—_ no. Just, no. To accept your knot  _without_ your love would be worse than what the disease inflicts. So please just let me walk away one more time, let me survive this alone.”

“Obi-Wan, please don't,” Qui-Gon protested as Obi-Wan turned to suit his words. “If it was me you wanted, why did you put so much effort into  _not_ discouraging Anakin?”

A grim laugh escaped his former Padawan. “I wanted to see if you would be jealous. See if you cared. And I— wanted to prove I didn't. I wanted to stop feeling so ashamed every time you looked at me.”

Qui-Gon took a cautious step forward. Obi-Wan did not retreat.

“Because of this illness, I'm  _that_ omega now. The one carrying a thousand litters, spreading his legs for anyone, everyone. Even as your Padawan, before the illness, that was all I was good for. I thought if I  _owned_ it, maybe it would stop  _hurting_ so much when you looked at me so distantly,” Obi-Wan rasped. “It was bad enough without being the needy omega, the pathetic one, who loved and was not loved in return. I didn't want to be the stereotype, the despised, the weak— if I  _had_ to accept knots, at least I should be in control of it. But look at me  _now. Telling_ you this. Nothing left to hide behind. You should have let me trigger the collar long ago. Then I could have been a hero. A martyr. Now I'm just...  _another_ bitch who craves love _._ ”

Qui-Gon dragged him into a hug, tears filling his eyes. “No, Obi-Wan.”  
“The conspiracy theory is true, you know.”

Qui-Gon simply held him and waited for him to elaborate.

“It's not a naturally-occurring disease. There are those who want to keep the status quo because it's profitable for them. It  _was_ manufactured, to counter the empowered omega movement.”

Qui-Gon tried to fight his automatic disbelief.

_Obi-Wan is smart. He wouldn't believe such a ridiculous thing unless he had reason. Trust in him, Jinn._

“I went after him. The mastermind behind it. I didn't get him. I  _did_ walk away infected.” Obi-Wan tried to pull away, but Qui-Gon refused to let go. “It changes you, Qui-Gon. It changes you, to feel so helpless.”

Qui-Gon squeezed him tighter. “Why did you go after him without me?”

“Because I needed to do this. To prove I'm  _more_ than my gender.”

“Does being a strong omega require not working with your friends as a team? This fight  _is_ your fight, Obi-Wan, but your battles are important to me because  _you_ are important to me. I want to help.”

Obi-Wan ducked out of his arms, freeing himself. He refused to look Qui-Gon in the eye. “After you knot me you won't see it that way anymore. You'll want to get as far away as possible.”  
“That's one reason why I'm _not_ going to help you with this heat.”  
Startled eyes raised to his.

“I'm not going to touch you that way until you  _know_ I love you.”  
Doubt flooded those eyes.

“See? _This_ is why. This conversation will be had another time, and I think you will be surprised by what you discover.” Qui-Gon's heart squeezed. “But I will not take you until you have _no_ doubt I love you.”

A little of the despair eased from Obi-Wan's face, swept away by shock. “But— so you'll let me deal with this alone, then?”

“That depends on your next response. Just how willing  _were_ you to have sex with my Padawan?”  
Obi-Wan watched him with a narrowed gaze. “I never really thought you would help me. I didn't  _know_ something would go wrong, but things rarely go  _right_ for me, so I'd considered him, yes. Given the fact he actually cares about me as an individual and I'm not bribing or manipulating him for anything, it might be the healthiest pairing of my life.”

Qui-Gon's heart broke anew.

“We are going to find a way to break you free of this weapon's hold,” Qui-Gon swore, voice quiet and thick with feeling. “You don't have to face this alone.”  
Obi-Wan considered for a long moment. “You won't resent me for deflowering your apprentice?”

“I was taking you to Safety Houses at his age. Entrusting him to you instead of a stranger?”

Obi-Wan seemed both shocked and moved as he murmured, “What made you change your mind?”  
“You. I only have one request.”  
“What?” Obi-Wan sounded small, half afraid and half hoping—

“Do not toy with his heart.”  
Obi-Wan met his gaze with a steady, quiet one of his own. “I swear it.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

Anakin cuddled into Obi-Wan's back, nose tucked against his neck, deeply convinced he could be content to stay like this forever.

Obi-Wan stirred, sat up, and reached for his robe.

“Do you have to go?” Anakin pleaded, a whimper in his throat.

Obi-Wan didn't reply, he simply sent Anakin a smile that could have been called smug if one couldn't see the sorrow in his eyes.

And then the older Jedi disappeared into the trees.

Anakin heaved a sigh, no longer feeling warm. He crawled to his own cloak and drew it around his shoulders.

Obi-Wan hadn't been his first experience with knotting an omega, but he'd certainly never shared something with one so experienced.

He'd assumed it would be different, but it wasn't quite as different as he'd been led to believe. Obi-Wan had confidence, wasn't apologizing, was a bit more coordinated, didn't stick his nose in Anakin's eye—

But at the point of orgasm, it felt pretty similar to his earlier experiences; breathtaking and consuming.

It was only when the knot was settled that Anakin had discovered the major difference.

Instead of trying to find a comfortable position, involving a few  _ ows  _ and several  _ oomphs,  _ and mis-matched attempts that left both involved snickering and embarrassed, Obi-Wan had simply gone still.

He lay there limp.

And yes.

He hadn't been exaggerating...

He never once made a sound.

At the time, Anakin had been too busy worshiping the body of what seemed to be a deity of sex, but now he felt a hollow sadness building inside him.

_ He's had a rotten life. _

And even this, he hadn't  _ really  _ wanted.

Anakin knew it hadn't hurt him, had sensed some pleasure in Obi-Wan's willing participation...

_ But it's different. Doing it because you have to, than doing it because you want to. _

Anakin stared off into the forest, as if he might be able to see the mist-shrouded form of Obi-Wan in the dim murk.

Anakin had been delighted when Obi-Wan approached him:  _ Because really,  _ he thought,  _ who  _ wouldn't  _ be? Anybody would be thrilled to do him. _

But in this moment Anakin didn't feel as powerful as he thought he might. Somehow, this had moved from bragging rights to something sad in his heart.

In that moment, he knew he wouldn't be reveling in details with his friends back at the Temple.

He could sense the mournful song of Obi-Wan's soul, and Anakin curled up by the fire, squeezing his eyes shut.  _ Please find someone you can be happy with. _

_Please._

 

* * *

 

Obi-Wan sat at the base of a tree, staring out into the endless fog.

Anakin had been kind, and Obi-Wan felt just a little guilty for leaving him directly after.

It felt a little like he'd used the younger man.

Normally, that feeling, that knowledge that he'd kicked an alpha in the teeth felt  _ good.  _ Choosing an alpha he could get something from, stroking the ego, fripping him, and then walking away or kicking him out of his room.

The look of shock and bewilderment on their faces was priceless. The casual, arrogant cruelty they usually inflicted on others turned back on themselves, they were left trying to leave him their frequency and murmuring, “Comm me.”  
Obi-Wan didn't know if it ever gave them pause when they used omegas in the future, the memory of the sting of rejection; the sudden, terrifying moment of self-doubt.

They probably didn't learn. Still, it felt good to see them understand the moment when they realized they'd been played, used, and the prize walked away with whatever it was he'd been manipulating them to get.

Anakin was different.

He was just an eager young man looking for pleasure wherever he could find it.

It opened up the chasm in Obi-Wan's heart, reminded him there were  _ good alphas  _ out there.

How desperately he didn't want it to be  _ Anakin  _ whispering awe-struck praise into his mouth.

A twig crunched nearby.

Obi-Wan lifted dry eyes, found Qui-Gon moving to sit beside him.

He wanted to send him away. To warn him,  _ I stink of sex. _

But he couldn't seem to open his mouth.

Qui-Gon sat there with him in silence.

_ You hate me now. You said you wouldn't, but you'll be jealous. _

_This will never go away._

“Why are you here?” Obi-Wan asked, his voice a hoarse rasp.

Qui-Gon stared out at the mist. “No one should have to suffer alone.”

A sob caught in Obi-Wan's throat, swift and unexpected. His shoulders shuddered, he bowed his head, and soon he couldn't hold back the absolute grief that swamped him.

He found strong arms holding him close, Qui-Gon simply enduring with him as Obi-Wan wept into his chest.

 

* * *

 

They were found by the slavers who sabotaged their ship before they were found by a rescue.

Obi-Wan fought with a proficiency and grace that mesmerized Qui-Gon. The younger Jedi almost seemed to glow in the Force as he beat back those who only saw him as money, those who had hunted him time and again.

In the end, when they had the men bound and the Republic vessel was moving in to land, Anakin murmured, “He didn't need our help.”

_ No. He would have captured them on his own. _

Obi-Wan stood over them, arms crossed, waiting for the reinforcements to disembark.

He could have seriously harmed the bastards, he could have killed them, he could have done any number of things to avenge himself and other omegas upon them.

But he hadn't.

He stood ready to turn them over to the authorities, to face life-sentences for what they'd done, and from the expression on his face and in his Force signature, Qui-Gon realized this was  _ normal  _ for him. This was what he believed in, and this was how he saw the universe. He felt satisfaction in the thought of such a fate for these men.

Qui-Gon himself was having more of a difficult time holding himself and Anakin back from harming the slavers who kept spewing lewd and belittling comments at the man who'd captured them.

For a long moment Obi-Wan had endured it in silence, and then he'd cut squares out of their pants, right over their entrances, and stuffed the fabric in their mouths as makeshift gags.

He operated with such efficiency and calm  _ normalcy  _ that Anakin tried to hide his uncontrollable snickers, but failed.

Obi-Wan simply looked at his blushing prisoners with quiet satisfaction, and moved to meet Fisto descending the landing ramp.

“You have gifts for me?” Fisto asked with a beautiful grin.

Obi-Wan smiled back as they clasped hands, then hugged.

Qui-Gon watched in amazement.

Obi-Wan walked back with Fisto, detailing names and a list of the misdeeds of each of the criminals.

As the men were prodded to their feet and Kit caught sight of their bare asses, he chuckled. “Why am I not surprised? Alright. Let's get your catch on board. We'll tow your ship, Kenobi.”

“Much appreciated. She's been rather dented this time.”  
As Obi-Wan perp-walked one of his prizes up the ramp and Fisto grabbed a second to follow, Qui-Gon stayed him with a touch to his shoulder. “Why didn't the Council tell me about his condition?”

“He asked us not to.”

“But how could you keep something that important from me?” Qui-Gon protested. “He could  _ die. _ ”

Kit looked somewhat surprised. “I think you're forgetting we're not friends, Master Jinn?”

“Doesn't matter. The Council—”

“We were asked by a friend not to share private details about his health with someone he hadn't spoken to in years. Seemed like a reasonable enough request. And while we have a loyalty and responsibility to you because you are a Jedi, we  _ don't  _ have the same responsibility to you as to a friend. The others are too polite to say this, but you're a bit of an asshole, Qui-Gon Jinn. Don't expect people you treat rather poorly to think very highly of you in return.”

Qui-Gon stared after him in shock while Anakin sputtered in anger.

“The nerve,” Anakin growled. “They think  _ you're  _ an asshole.”

Qui-Gon frowned, but seized the elbow of one of the prisoners and dragged him to the ship.

_ How is Obi-Wan on good terms with the Council when he  _ dresses  _ and  _ behaves  _ the way he does? He bears  _ children,  _ for Force's sake. _

Nothing about this made sense to him.

 

* * *

 

It had been several months since Anakin had last seen Obi-Wan.

They'd returned to the Temple with their prisoners, and Qui-Gon had learned of a disaster on a planet that triggered his  _ must protect these people  _ instinct, and off they ran.

The project turned out to be much longer than at first anticipated, but they hadn't been able to leave until they knew a bloodbath wouldn't result.

Anakin had been loath to leave the man who assured him that he  _ was _ pregnant, and if not, there were “plenty of others to help, so Anakin needn't worry” about him.

Anakin might have looked a  _ little  _ uncertain at that, and Obi-Wan had smiled into his eyes, lightly caressing his cheek with a cool hand.

“You have a beautiful soul, Anakin,” Obi-Wan whispered, leaning in to press a faint kiss to his lips. “May you find who you seek.”

And through the Force came the gentle, terrible reassurance—

_ That is not me. _

It took a good chunk of those months apart to realize Obi-Wan was right.

A bit longer to stop feeling guilty for leaving a man pregnant when he had no intention of staying with him long term.

Qui-Gon had helped him let  _ that  _ worry go.

He could also see how desperately his master loved Obi-Wan Kenobi, and was man enough to realize that what he himself felt was nothing compared to it.

_ Though if he gave me another chance, I would definitely worship that body again. _

He knew what a pregnancy looked like. He knew Obi-Wan was pregnant.

Still, he wasn't prepared to see him when Obi-Wan's ship. returning from his own mission, landed a day after Qui-Gon and Anakin's, and the two waited to meet him on the landing platform.

Practically waddling, Obi-Wan looked up and his eyes widened. “You— you're headed out?”

“No.” Qui-Gon stepped close, smiling, and Anakin knew he could sense and see the tiny tremble than ran through Obi-Wan's body at the proximity, of having to look up so far into his face. “We came to meet you.”

To Anakin's surprise, Obi-Wan  _ blushed. _

It warmed his heart, and almost brought tears to his eyes.  _ Bedfellow of many, lover of none. _

But maybe,  _ maybe  _ that could change.

Qui-Gon stepped away, as if unaware of the effect he'd had on Obi-Wan, and the younger Jedi nearly snuck another glance at him before reining himself in. “The Chancellor is asking for members of the original Naboo team to protect Senator Amidala since she doesn't want protecting and he thinks she might accept someone more familiar. I'm not really in shape for spectacular chases at the moment— that last mad dash over roofs was unpleasant, and I'd rather not have a repeat experience until I've shed a few of these pounds. And the backache.”

“You're allowed medical leave whenever you decide you want it,” Qui-Gon reminded.

Obi-Wan shrugged. “I don't really have anything to do with my time. I'd get bored.”

“I could think of a few things.”

Anakin's eyes flew open almost as wide as Obi-Wan's, who stared at him in disbelief.

“Could I take you to dinner?”

A puzzled frown furrowed Obi-Wan's forehead. “Dinner?”

“I'm asking you on a date, Obi-Wan.”

Again the spectacular blush, all over forehead and cheeks and down his neck. “O-oh. I— yes. Alright.” Struggling to regain the suave confidence he usually exuded, he sobered his face and stance into grim business. Anakin had to bite his lip to stop a soft smile.

_ He looks adorable, and he's trying to look so unaffected. _

It just reinforced what Anakin had already known to be true:

_ He and Master  _ need  _ to be together. _

“What about Senator Amidala?”

Qui-Gon shrugged. “Anakin and I will take the guard duty. It'll keep us on Coruscant, and I'm sure there will be an evening I can keep to myself while I leave the guarding in Anakin's hands.”  
_ You'd let me by myself?  _ A shiver of pride ran down Anakin's back.  _ I'm getting close to knighthood. _

Obi-Wan gave them a firm nod and a subdued smile, and then waddled for the entrance.

Qui-Gon seemed content to watch him go.

Anakin, however, had something a little more urgent than watching Obi-Wan's pregnancy-plumped ass. Darting after him, he slowed to match Obi-Wan's strides.

“Is it mine?” Anakin asked.

Obi-Wan did not pause, but he sent Anakin a measured look after a moment. “No. It's mine. You agreed to that before we had sex, remember?”

“Yes... yes. I just wanted to know if it worked, you know. Or if maybe I'm a dud and you had to go somewhere else.”

A laugh burst from Obi-Wan. “Fragile alpha egos,” he chuckled. “Rest easy, Anakin. You're potent.”

And back was Obi-Wan's casual irreverence, and it was Anakin turning a rosy color.

“Can I— touch your stomach?”  
Obi-Wan paused, considering. “I suppose,” he decided.

A reverent hand reached out to place a palm there. Anakin could hear a tiny song in the Force, unique, just waiting to be released so it could sing it to the universe and  _ dance.  _

A little bit dazed, his lifted his gaze to Obi-Wan's face. “It's Force sensitive.”

“Yes.”

“Are most of those you bear?”

“Yes.”  
Anakin nodded. “Give it a few years, and the Temple will full of tiny Kenobis running around.”  
“Force spare us.” But Obi-Wan seemed relieved that Anakin hadn't made any move to try to convince him to raise the child himself, or  _ together. _

_ No, Obi-Wan. I'm amazed we created this little life, and my heart's going to flutter when I hear of its exploits someday, but I do not want to be a father. _

_ And I  _ do  _ want this baby to be raised with as much tenderness and care as it deserves. _

“Any suggestions on what I should wear to this date?” Obi-Wan spoke up out of nowhere, a sudden pensiveness in his face and tone.

Anakin gave him a once-over. Not wearing leather because of the sheer impracticality of it, Obi-Wan was wearing swishy, loose clothing that still managed to advertise his figure, and he'd kept the dramatic makeup.

“Whatever you feel comfortable in.”

Obi-Wan worried his lip with his teeth. “But it could harm his reputation. To be seen out on a date with someone like  _ me. _ ”

“A beautiful and badass Jedi Master who's probably going to end up on the Council because he's just that good at what he does?”

A flicker of emotion, just a hint of tears in those eyes...

For a long moment Obi-Wan did not speak, and then he murmured. “Thank you.”  
And Anakin knew he'd never seen anything quite so beautiful as the man he'd somehow just managed to make feel whole with just a few simple words.

 

* * *

 

He'd been wrong.

Dear Force and Sith and life and death, he'd been  _ so damn wrong _ .

There  _ was  _ one more beautiful than Obi-Wan Kenobi.

And when Obi-Wan saw him return from their first meeting with the Senator and saw his glazed eyes, the older man burst into laughter so delighted and genuine it startled Qui-Gon.

Apparently that wasn't a laugh he'd heard since Obi-Wan was a very young child.

And seeing Qui-Gon drop Obi-Wan off at the Temple after the date with a gentle press of lips to Obi-Wan's forehead, seeing Obi-Wan's heart nearly stop at the caress, seeing Obi-Wan steal a quick glance in Qui-Gon's direction as he turned to go inside and Qui-Gon beckoned Anakin into the speeder to head back to Padmé's apartment...

_ It's good. It's so very good. _

Anakin even had a  _ moment  _ with Padmé, and he was  _ sure  _ it meant something.

The next time he saw her was at an official event, and Obi-Wan was present too.

It had been a better political function than most, because he could alternate between watching Qui-Gon nearly glow with contentment because Obi-Wan blushed every time he caught Qui-Gon looking at him, and watching the angel who went about her business with a determination and skill that left him smiling stupidly.

That is, until she shoved him against the wall in the deserted hallway, fire in her eyes, and hissed in fury, “How  _ dare  _ you?”

“What?” he asked, realizing something had gone dreadfully wrong.

“There's an omega in there with  _ your scent  _ leaking from his pores, clearly carrying  _ your child,  _ and you're putting moves on  _ me _ ?”

Anakin's eyes widened. “No, Padmé, it's okay. Obi-Wan's not interested in—”

“ _ You  _ are the sort who give alphas a bad name,” she spat out. “I will  _ not  _ be a part of it. I may be alpha, but I have a  _ code,  _ Anakin. You don't knock someone up and just  _ leave  _ them for the next pretty thing that comes along. There's a thing called  _ responsibility  _ and  _ decency,  _ and that  _ poor man! _ ”

“ _ Padmé _ ,” Anakin protested.

She scowled at him. “The way he dresses and does his face is  _ no excuse  _ for your behavior. He's a  _ person,  _ Anakin, and if you were going to knot him, he deserves as much consideration as any other partner. You  _ impregnated  _ that poor man when you had  _ no intention  _ of helping him through the aftermath. It's  _ Senator Amidala  _ from here on out. Do you understand, Padawan Skywalker? Or there will be trouble.”

“He wanted the child!” Anakin blurted. “I mean, he doesn't want it, but he needed it, and—”

She punched him in the mouth before stalking away.

Stunned, in significant pain, Anakin cradled his face in his hand and watched her leave, head up, indignation a cloak around her.

And then he groaned and let his head thunk back against the wall.

_ Right. This is going spectacularly. _

 

* * *

 

“Might I have the pleasure of this dance?”  
Obi-Wan nearly jumped out of his skin, spinning around with eyes wide.

It was gratifying, so gratifying. Qui-Gon smiled, loved how Obi-Wan's heart fluttered in response.

“Are— Are you sure you want to be seen with me? I have two rooms I'll be visiting before returning to the Temple.”

“I understand.”

Obi-Wan searched his face, clearly seeking for signs of jealousy.

“I'm not going to ask you to completely change your lifestyle, Dear One.”

Obi-Wan's eyes widened at the endearment. “That won't last long.”

“Try me.”  
Obi-Wan still looked suspicious. “You'll turn out just like the rest of them. You'll tolerate my promiscuity for a time, and then you'll resent it, then think you're owed my body and have a right in a say to who touches it, and then either I cave to your demands, or you leave me.”

“I am a Jedi, Obi-Wan. I do not possess people. You are your own person, and whatever you grant me is what I will cherish, for the time you choose to let me have it.” Qui-Gon extended a hand to him. Obi-Wan hesitantly took it, and Qui-Gon pulled him in close, eliciting another startled expression as Qui-Gon leaned in to whisper against his ear, “I love you for who you are. I don't need to edit what you do to fit me better.”

“They're going to think you pay me.”

Qui-Gon smiled into his worried eyes. “Let them think what they will.”

And then they were on the dance floor, and Obi-Wan was moving with the fluid sensuality that invariably drew eyes to him. Only now it was Qui-Gon's hand on his hip, his lower back, his arm.

_ Yes. Look at you. Beautiful. _

They danced until the music shifted to a Tarisian tango, at which point Obi-Wan made as if to leave the dance floor.

Qui-Gon didn't let go of his hand, arching an eyebrow in invitation.

Obi-Wan looked back in unsure confusion, but Qui-Gon smiled.

There came a point in the dance when the entire floor was empty except for these two, the rest of those gathered here trapped, spellbound by the sight. Qui-Gon couldn't tell if Obi-Wan himself were aware of it, since the younger Jedi seemed to believe nothing in the universe existed except for the music, his partner, and the utter sexuality of his own body.

It wasn't an easy dance for Qui-Gon, with the individual sliding against him being the man he loved. Qui-Gon suspected his grace may have dissolved a few seconds in, but he wasn't sure it mattered in the face of Obi-Wan's precision and and bewitching performance, the pregnant omega stealing all hearts.

At the end, Obi-Wan turned his head from the right to the left, his lips ghosting over Qui-Gon's. It wasn't a kiss, but it  _ was  _ contact, and there was something warm in Obi-Wan's eyes.

Qui-Gon was able to identify one of the men who had bought Obi-Wan's body for the evening with whatever it was Obi-Wan had extorted out of them this time, by the fact that as soon as Obi-Wan stepped away from Qui-Gon he had a new individual  _ right  _ there by his side, murmuring in his ear.

They turned to leave, to head in the direction of the private rooms, but Obi-Wan threw one last lingering glance over his shoulder at Qui-Gon.

The older Jedi couldn't read his expression, but he sent a brave smile after the younger man, and wished for a stiff drink.

The ride home with Anakin was gloomy.

“Padmé hates me and won't let me explain.”

“The man I love went home with someone other than me. Again.”

They exchanged a morose look, then both sighed as one.

“He'll come back to you,” Anakin offered. “He just needs to be allowed his own time. Can't really blame him for his caution when it comes to an alpha's intentions, now can we?”

Qui-Gon gave a grim nod. “Which will be least humiliating for you: being thrown on the floor by her bodyguards and explaining to Padmé the situation while you drool into her carpet, or asking Obi-Wan to speak to her about it?”

“Ha.” Anakin sounded just as grim. “I'd explain, she wouldn't believe me, and I'd get thrown out the door if I'm lucky, the window if I'm not. She's  _ mad. _ ”

“You seem to think a man who has been angry with me for ten-plus years will forgive me, so I don't think you should view one night's argument to be completely insurmountable.”

 

* * *

 

And Obi-Wan, astride an appreciative alpha, his body shuddering in silent pleasure his mind was only partially convinced was actually enjoyable, wondered what it would be like to love the man he found release with.

He escaped one room to head to the second, hoping he'd be exhausted enough to sleep once he returned to his quarters.

He didn't really want to lie awake wondering  _ again,  _ sleep elusive while his mind churned.

 

 

 


End file.
